


At The End Of The Tunnel

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Captivity, First Kiss, M/M, Reconciliation, Recovery, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leek has Nick in his clutches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At The End Of The Tunnel

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for reggietate, for the prompt 'deliberate Nick-whumping'.
> 
> Spoilers for episode 2.07, and an alternative ending to the same.

 

Nick hawked and spat, trying to rid himself of the taste of blood.

Unfortunately, his aim was a little off, and he missed the pristine white expanse of Leek’s shirt by at least two feet, his saliva instead splattering a bright red arc on the pale grey concrete of the cell wall.

Leek tutted disappointedly.“Really, Professor.Such childish behaviour.It’s beneath you.”

Nick spat again, just to make a point, and this time came oh-so close to marring the shiny black toe of Leek’s shoe.

“What the hell do you want, Leek?” he hissed.

“What makes you think I want anything?”

Nick laughed – a harsh, derisive sound.“Oh, come on.You’ve got me strung up like some bloody animal, with one of your thugs beating me to a pulp.You must want something.Information about the ARC, about the anomalies…”

“Ah.”Leek cocked his head slightly.“I thought you might be labouring under this misapprehension.Why would I need information, Professor?I’ve been working in the ARC for months.I know everything you know.I have all the information I could ever need.”

“More power, then,” rasped Nick.“Use me as a hostage for something.”

“Wrong again.I have an army of future-predators at my beck and call.You’ve seen them, Professor.I can use them to gather all the power I want.”

“So why _are_ you keeping me here, then?”

Leek’s lips twisted in a disgusting parody of a smile.“Because I can,” he said simply.

He nodded to the figure standing in the shadows in the corner of the cell, and the man stepped forward into the light.

Nick had had the ‘pleasure’ of the guy’s company for two days now, but he still found it difficult to reconcile what he was seeing with the memories in his mind’s eye.He’d seen this man die, seen him pulled under the sand in the Silurian desert.

And yet here he was.The mercenary, the ‘Cleaner’ as Connor and Abby had taken to calling him, large as life and twice as ugly.

And more than willing to do Leek’s bidding.

There was another signal that Nick didn’t catch, and then the Cleaner’s fist slammed into his gut, pain flaring outwards along his nerves.He wheezed desperately, the impulse to curl around the pain thwarted by the chains pulling his arms towards the ceiling, leaving his body dangling.

The punch was followed by a swift, vicious backhander to his face, and Nick tasted blood again as stars danced in front of his eyes.

“Oh, and Professor?” Leek’s voice was coming from the direction of the door now.“Don’t expect a rescue.There’s no one coming.I made sure of it.”

_What? What’s happened to them?What have you done?_

And then…  
  
 _Stephen..._ ** _  
_**

Nick wasn’t sure if he’d voiced his questions aloud, but the only answer he received was the slamming of the cell door.

And as the Cleaner hit him again, Nick bowed his head and let it happen.

*   *   *   *   *

Pain.It was all he knew now.It was his constant companion.He’d lost track of how long he’d been here, at the mercy of Leek and his man.How long he’d endured.

He wanted nothing more than for it to end.Not because of the pain – he was almost used to that by now.But because of the knowledge.The knowledge that everyone else was gone.No one was coming.He was alone.

That hurt more than anything physical.He tried not to think of it, but his mind seemed to take a vicious pleasure in presenting him with images of everyone he’d lost, both now, and in the past.

Helen, Claudia, Connor, Abby, Jenny, even Lester.

And Stephen…

He regretted the distance that had been between them now.Regretted the fighting, the harsh words, the cold shoulders.

He’d missed the other man desperately, but had never told him.

And now he never would.

He wanted to let go.Just slip away, and finally be at peace.But as his mind kept a tenacious grip on everything he wanted to forget, so his body kept a tenacious grip on the life that was now nothing more than a torture.

He hadn’t eaten in days, and had only drunk when water had been forced down his throat.And yet he persisted in living.It seemed that the universe was having one last laugh at his expense.

Every day the Cleaner came.Sometimes Leek came with him, taking a disgusting, perverted pleasure out of watching the violence.

But even if the slimy little man wasn’t there, the violence still continued.It had no aim, no purpose, other than to cause him pain.To break him.

He suspected that there wasn’t one part of his skin left unbruised.He knew that the manacles encircling his wrists had long since rubbed through skin and muscle, exposing bone to the air.One eye was swollen shut, and he knew he’d lost teeth.And he wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he had internal damage too.

His life was now defined by two things.Pain and loss.

He just wanted it to end.

*   *   *   *   *

The soft touch of fingers on his face had him flinching away until his abused psyche registered the gentleness of the caress.It had been so long since anyone had touched him with anything other than the intent to do him damage that he’d almost forgotten what kindness felt like.

Then he realised someone was talking to him.

“Nick?Oh god…Nick, can you hear me?”

He felt the voice was familiar, that he should know who was speaking.But the knowledge was just out of reach, just beyond his comprehension.

But he _could_ hear the voice, and so he nodded.

“Good, that’s good.Just hold on, Nick.I’m going to get you out of here.”

There was something else about the voice too.Something else that Nick felt he should recognise.A tremor under the words, brief hesitations in the wrong places.

But it was too hard to pin down, and he had to let the meaning float away.

Then he heard the click of the manacle locks being unfastened.And despite a supporting arm around his waist, he dropped heavily.

Pain flared throughout his body, and everything went black.

*   *   *   *   *

When he awoke again, it was to more pain.Somehow, he’d thought it would be gone, and the realisation that it wasn’t almost sent him straight back into his unconsciousness.

As it was, all he registered before he passed out again was a rhythmic beeping noise, and the feeling of a hand lightly clasping his own.

*   *   *   *   *

That became the pattern of his life.Dreams and darkness, interspersed with the briefest periods of consciousness.And whenever he awoke, it was always the same.The beeping sound, and the hand holding his.

Sometimes there was more – fuzzy voices, movement as someone checked parts of his body – but more often than not, it was just those two things.The beeping and the hand.He clung to them both like a lifeline.

*   *   *   *   *

Then came the day when for the first time he felt like he was properly awake.Maybe the pain was a little less.Maybe the fog in his mind had started to lift.Whatever the reason, for once he didn’t feel like it would be easier to let unconsciousness claim him again.

But what was the use of being awake if you couldn’t communicate?He tried to speak, but found his voice too rusted and broken to use.He tried to lift his arm, but discovered he had no strength in his limbs.The best he could manage was a small twitch of the fingers.

But it was enough.

Other fingers twitched in response.The hand covering his gripped suddenly, the sound of a chair being pushed back hurriedly almost loud enough to mask the beeping for half a second.

Then a figure stood over him, indistinct still – he had gauze over one eye, and the other seemed to be taking a while to focus – but obviously excited.

“Nick?Can you hear me?Move your fingers if you can hear me.”

_I wasn’t in a coma_ , he wanted to say. _I wasn’t gone.I was just…asleep._

But his voice still wouldn’t work, so he moved his fingers again obediently, blinking his good eye furiously to try and clear his vision.

Little by little, the person above him came into focus.Dark hair, blue eyes, deep worry lines making him look older than he was.

His mind supplied him with a name.And he knew that this was the person who had rescued him.

Stephen.

*   *   *   *   *

His injuries were extensive.As well as his eye, which was the least of them, he had four cracked ribs, a dislocated hip, a badly broken ankle, and internal damage to his kidneys and liver.Not to mention the bruising and cuts that covered almost his entire body.His wrists were swathed so heavily in bright white bandaging that he was sure it was making his arms twice as heavy.

He was also starved and dehydrated.He still didn’t know how many days he’d been trapped in that cell, but he’d heard the doctor mutter something about ‘borderline malnutrition’, and known it had been a close call.He was still being fed concentrated nutrients through an IV, until the doctors deemed him recovered enough to return to solid food.

And on top of all that, he could barely talk.His throat was ripped to shreds – from screaming, he supposed.Although he kept that knowledge to himself.

So he just had to content himself with nods and shakes, and the odd grunt of agreement when someone asked him a question.

Luckily, no one was asking much.The medical staff contented themselves with enquiries about his pain levels, and Stephen had obviously decided that the bad memories needed to be kept at bay, restricting himself instead to passing on get well messages from Connor, Abby, and the others, and occasionally reading him snippets from magazines and newspapers.

But mostly they just sat in silence.Nick didn’t mind.It was enough for him that Stephen was there.

But as the fuzziness in his mind continued to lift, the memories started to return.Only brief flashes – he suspected he would never regain more than that, and he was grateful for it – but enough to make him want answers.

“What…happened?”The two words were enough to exacerbate the soreness in his throat, but he was determined to ask the question.

Stephen looked up sharply from the paper.“I really don’t think…”

“Stephen…please…”Nick knew he was begging, but he really didn’t have any other weapons in his arsenal.He couldn’t _make_ Stephen tell him, and he had to rely on the other man picking up on his desperate need for answers.

Stephen must have seen something in his eyes then, because quite suddenly he relented.

“You went off looking for Leek.On your own, as usual.Silly bugger.”But the words were said without rancour, and Stephen was smiling fondly.“But when you didn’t come back, we started to get worried.You weren’t answering your phone, and Connor couldn’t triangulate your position using the ADD to pick up its signal.We had no idea where you were, and Leek had implanted a virus in the ARC’s computer systems to wipe any information that might have helped us.”

“How you…find…?”

Stephen looked uncomfortable.“Helen,” he said simply.“She was helping him, Nick.That’s how he got his hands on all those creatures.She was helping him understand the anomalies.But when she found out what he meant to do with his little menagerie, she left.And she came to us and told us where to find his base.Where to find you.She may not be your favourite person, Nick, but she _did_ help us.”

Nick couldn’t help the small flash of bitterness at hearing Stephen defend Helen.But then Stephen spoke again.

“But that’s all she did.She told us where to find you, and then she took off.She didn’t wait to see if you were alright, or help us with the creatures, or anything.She was just gone.Again.”He paused.“I hope she stays gone this time.”

Nick nodded emphatically – or, at least, as emphatically as he could, given his condition.Stephen smiled.

“I think Lester must have sent a whole platoon of Special Forces into that place with us.I guess it was his way of showing that he cared about you really.Although he’d probably die rather than admit it.”The smiled briefly morphed into a full-fledged grin, but then died as Stephen continued his tale.“But the soldiers were mostly preoccupied with dealing with the creatures and searching for Leek.I’m sorry, Nick, but we had to shoot most of them.”

Nick nodded again, understanding.“Leek…?” he asked.

“They found him,” Stephen confirmed.“Lester’s having a wonderful time interrogating him.”

They shared a brief, satisfied smile, and then Stephen sobered again.

“Abby, Connor, and I looked for you.”His voice had dropped to almost a whisper.“And I found you.”

He looked away briefly, struggling, and suddenly Nick was glad he couldn’t remember much of those moments.

“I…sorry…”

“Don’t be stupid.”Stephen’s voice was thick.“I’m just glad I got there in time.When I saw you there, I thought you were dead.You very nearly _were_ dead.”

“You…saved…me…”

Nick paused for a moment, swallowing against the soreness in his throat.

“My…hero…”

Stephen laughed at that, even as he stood and picked up a cup from the cabinet beside the bed, holding the straw to Nick’s lips so he could sip at the cool water.

“Now,” Stephen said, when Nick had indicated he’d had enough, “you need to get some rest.I probably shouldn’t have told you all that.The nurses will have my guts for garters if I’ve set back your recovery in any way.”

“Just…bat…eyelashes…”

“Hey!Just because you’re ill, doesn’t mean you can insult me.”Leaning over, Stephen tucked the blankets more securely around Nick.“Now.Sleep.Dr. Hart’s orders.”

Nick let himself settle against his pillows, already feeling fuzzy around the edges.But he had just one more thing to say first.

“Stephen…thank…you…”

“You’re welcome.”

*   *   *   *   *

“He told me you weren’t coming.”

Four days later, and Nick’s voice had improved immeasurably, although he still coughed if he tried to talk too fast, or for too long.

Stephen looked at him curiously.“What?”

“Leek.He told me you weren’t coming.That he’d made sure of it.I don’t remember much, but I do remember that.I thought he’d killed you all.”

“Oh.Oh, Nick…”

“I’d given up.Long before you came.Leek was only keeping me to torture me for his sadistic pleasure, and as far as I knew, no one was coming to bail me out.I gave up.Fortunately, my body didn’t.”He smiled wryly.“Guess the survival instinct is stronger than I thought.”

Stephen’s blue eyes were full of pain, and Nick could feel the hand that held his tighten its grip slightly.

“Do you know what I thought about, the whole time I was hanging there?You.I thought about how I’d never be able to tell you I was sorry.How I was sorry that I’d pushed you away.And about how I’d forgiven you.How I wished we could have been together again…”

His voice cracked, the words ending on a cough.He felt Stephen squeeze his hand again, and through the slightly watery vision in his good eye saw the other man bend and press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Stephen said in a low, hoarse voice, eyes fixed on the blanket.“I’m sorry for what I did.It was stupid, and if I could take it back, I would.I…”

“Didn’t you just hear me say that I’d forgiven you?” demanded Nick.“Just forget it, Stephen.I have.”He wished he could reach out a hand and force Stephen to look at him, but his arms were still too fragile for that kind of movement.He just had to wait.

Eventually, Stephen raised his head again, smiling weakly.“Okay, it’s forgotten,” he said quietly.

Nick nodded firmly.“Good.”

*   *   *   *   *

It was another month before the doctors would even contemplate letting Nick leave the hospital, and even then they would only do so on the proviso that he had round the clock care.Nick had grimaced at the thought of a strange nurse in his house, washing him and feeding him, until Stephen had pointed out the obvious solution.He would go home with Nick and look after him.

Of course, that had meant another two days in the hospital while Stephen received careful instructions on pain medications, changing bandages, and the like.Nick was just about ready to throttle someone before the doctors finally let him go, and only the knowledge that Stephen really did need to know this stuff kept him in check.

As it was, he had to leave in a wheelchair, his arms still not fully healed, and therefore unable to wield the crutches that would have been necessary thanks to his ankle.And while he’d never had cause to feel grateful that there were no steps up to his front door before, suddenly it seemed like a very good thing indeed.

But as Stephen pushed open the door and wheeled him into the hallway, Nick suddenly realised something else.

“I’m never going to be able to get up those stairs, you know,” he commented, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as he eyed the staircase to the first floor.

“Doesn’t matter,” Stephen pronounced.“I knew that would be a problem, so I found a way around it.”He pushed the wheelchair into the living room, and Nick’s eyes widened in surprise.

Someone had pushed the two sofas back against the walls, and in the middle of the floor stood his bed, freshly made up with clean linen, and with enough room to get the wheelchair down the sides.

“I got Abby and Connor to help me,” Stephen said.“Connor complained the whole time, of course…”

Nick snorted with laughter.“Of course.”Then he looked up at Stephen.“Thank you,” he said softly.“It’s a wonderful idea.”

“And I can sleep on one of the sofas, so I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

“Oh.”Nick struggled not to let his disappointment show.“I mean…you don’t have to…”

“If that makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take the spare room instead,” said Stephen lightly.“I don’t mind running up and down the stairs a bit.”

“No, that isn’t what I meant,” replied Nick awkwardly.“I was hoping you might want to…share?” he finished lamely, gesturing at the bed.

“Oh.”

“I can’t promise I won’t wake you up with nightmares or painful limbs or anything,” Nick hurried on.“But I’d like it if you would…”

Stephen bent down and pressed a kiss to his temple.“I’d like that,” he whispered.“I just didn’t want to push you, that’s all.”

“We won’t be doing anything other than sleeping for a while,” Nick warned him.

Chuckling, Stephen rolled his eyes.“I know,” he said.“And believe it or not, I can cope with that.Have been for the past few months, haven’t I?”

Nick stuck his tongue out, a childish gesture that made Stephen laugh even more.Then Nick yawned.

Stephen was instantly serious.“Come on, let’s get you into bed,” he said.“It’s been a tiring day.”

It was a delicate operation, getting Nick from the chair to the bed.He couldn’t lever himself up on his arms, and he couldn’t put any weight on his damaged leg.In the end Stephen took most of his weight, and by the time Nick was sitting on the edge of the mattress, the other man was breathing hard.

Nick smiled at him apologetically.“Sorry,” he said.

But Stephen waved him away.“I run thirty miles a week,” he said.“I think I can manage to haul a heavy lump like you on to a bed.”

“Hey!” Nick protested.“I don’t weigh that much!”

Stephen looked at him sombrely for a few moments.“Not now, you don’t,” he said quietly, taking in Nick’s still thinner-than-normal frame.Then he grinned.“But I’m planning on fattening you up…”

Now it was Nick’s turn to roll his eyes.“Great…”Then he yawned again, prompting Stephen to hunt out some pyjamas, and go through the routine of checking his bandages and doling out some painkillers.

Finally, Nick was in bed, lying back on the pillows with the duvet over him.The effort of getting there had left him feeling even more worn out, although he was still able to raise an eyebrow when he saw Stephen stripping off his own clothes, and quickly donning an old pair of jogging bottoms and a faded t-shirt.

“It’s still early, you know,” he pointed out.“You don’t have to sleep too.”

“It’s okay,” Stephen replied, sliding under the covers next to him.“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to let you out of my sight for the next few days anyway.”

“Oh great, I’ve been cursed with a mother hen,” Nick grumbled.But he was smiling, and Stephen smiled back, looking down at him fondly.

“Thank god everything worked out,” the other man murmured softly.

“I’ve still got a bit of a way to go,” Nick pointed out.

“But you’re alive, and that’s what matters,” Stephen insisted.“When I think about what…”

“ _Don’t_ think about it,” Nick instructed.“It didn’t happen, and as you’ve just said, _that’s_ what matters.”

Stephen nodded, and then, a little hesitantly, leaned in and gave Nick a chaste kiss on the lips.

Nick made a satisfied noise, and then sighed happily as Stephen curled around him, careful not to jostle any of his injuries.

“Think about that instead,” Nick suggested.

“About what?” Stephen asked.

“About the time when you’ll be able to do more than kiss me.”

Stephen snorted in amusement, and then reached over to flick the light off.“Sleep,” he instructed.

So Nick did.


End file.
